


Ai

by Arsoemon



Series: ShuKita 100 [29]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Artificial Intelligence, Assisted Suicide, Blood and Injury, College, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Self-Mutilation, Short One Shot, Shukita - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsoemon/pseuds/Arsoemon
Summary: Akira is a lab assistant for Dr. Takemi, just hoping to earn some credit hours and pad his resume. Takemi’s research turns out to be far more interesting than he could’ve imagined.*check tags well*
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: ShuKita 100 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1485896
Comments: 19
Kudos: 23





	Ai

"Good morning, Yusuke,” Akira calls as the airtight door slides closed behind him. He grabs the clipboard and approaches the sleep tank, filling out the basics on the form—date, time in, tank stats—before activating the depressurization system and setting the clipboard and pen down on the desk.

The locks click open with a solid clang. The canister hisses with each of the three layers of doors splitting away and revealing the specimen resting inside. He puts on a pair of the disposable latex gloves and uses his elbow to press the blue button to shut off the currents flowing through the wires attached to the android.

Akira pulls the cushioned metal tray out flat and begins recording his observations. He's noting a new development in the subject's anatomical reactions when he realizes the thing's eyes are trained on him. He startles as they hold eye contact for an endless second. Dr. Takemi had clearly made some changes over the weekend. He’s never seen it awake.

"H-hi." He cautiously steps closer. "How do you feel?" The android raises itself to a sitting position, eyes still fixed on Akira's. They're nearly face to face. The android raises its hand and slaps Akira across the face. He stumbles backward, shocked as he cups his cheek and straightens his glasses.

"My apologies. It seems I may have miscalculated the velocity of my hand.” The voice and speech pattern—while formal—are alarmingly human. “Truly, I mean no harm." He watches Akira for a moment. "You called me Yusuke just now. What does it mean?"

Akira is still holding his reddened cheek. "It's a name. The name the doctor gave you seemed too cold, so I just decided to call you Yusuke."

"UZK-III." He tilts his head. Akira nods. "How clever. What is your name?”

“You can call me Akira,” he cautiously offers his hand. “I hope we get along well,” he smiles at his newly sentient friend.

•

"And that’s how I learned to make coffee,” Akiraconcludes as he pulls out the stethoscope. “Tell me if it’s cold, alright?”

“Only a little,” Yusuke answers. Akira is pleasantly surprised; sensations are new developments. He’s been talking with Yusuke daily for two weeks now, and the AI is rapidly seeming less and less artificial.

“Akira,”

“Hm?” He finishes writing his notes.

“Your name, what does it mean?"

"Ah. It's usually translated as dawn."

"How appropriate."

Akira gives a small laugh. "What makes you say that?"

"Morning light is gentle yet radiant, able to inspire great hope and joy. You must be quite intelligent to keep up with the Doctor. And you are a veritable light in my eyes, metaphorically speaking." Akira can’t help but blush.

•

“Would you describe me as a robot?” Yusuke asks after they’ve greeted each other and discussed his weekend.

“Mm not really,” Akira records Yusuke’s blood pressure.

“Not even by definition?”

“What’s the definition?”

“Robot. From the Czech word robota meaning slave labor.”

“Where’d you pick that up?”

“A popular video game.”

Akira smirks. “Well even if that’s true,” he turns and sees Yusuke swinging his legs where they hang off the table, and his smile grows. “You are so much more.”

•

Akira hurries into the lab, eager to share with Yusuke everything he’s been learning in art history. Over the past few weeks, they’ve spent almost every day learning more and more about their common interests and Yusuke’s functions, the coolest of which is his ability to surf the web on the spot via wifi signal in just a fraction of a second. In this way, he can “see” exactly what Akira’s talking about in real time even faster than Akira himself could look it up on his phone.

“How fascinating! May I?” Yusuke takes his pen and clipboard and appears to be taking notes as Akira continues to recount the day’s lesson, facts and trivia he knows Yusuke could easily find out on his own.

“I think you’d enjoy that class the most,” he rests his chin on his fist, his usual kind smile resting on his lips as he watches Yusuke. “What’re you writing?”

Yusuke turns the clipboard around, and Akira’s eyes widen. There, in black and white, is an almost perfect recreation of his face. The image is striking as it is, but the fact that there are imperfections is what really gets him. This isn’t from a camera capturing his image or some app imitating a sketched art style. Yusuke drew this.

Akira stands slowly taking the clipboard in hand hardly able to pull his eyes away.

“Akira,” Yusuke whispers. “May I try one more thing?” He leans in and kisses Akira gently. Akira blushes when they separate. His mind is both blank and racing, what thoughts pass through, he couldn’t say. But the light kiss he plants on Yusuke’s lips in return serves as an adequate translation.

“Um... tomorrow? See you tomorrow?” Akira bites back a smile.

“I can hardly wait,” Yusuke gazes deeply into his eyes.

“Kurusu. A word, please,” a voice carries from just out of view outside the door.

•

Takemi steps into the lab, following the precautions she herself outlined: date, time in, gloves.

"Hello, Doctor,” the subject is already awake on the table.

"Hello, UZK-III." She barely spares him a glance as she sets up her station.

"Where is Akira?"

"He's gone away," her voice is at a certain octave, tone has a certain inflection that is highly similar to what he has learned sadness sounds like.

"Gone away? Is he perhaps... deceased?" Takemi is surprised that the robot sounds sad himself.

"No, nothing like that." She lies.

"Ah." The relief is obvious even in his even tone. "Is he on a trip?"

"Maybe."

"Has he gone far? Will he be back soon?"

"You are full of questions today, aren't you. Why are you so fixated on him?"

Eyes closed, a blissful smirk on his face, "He is my favorite human, and I have been impatiently waiting to see him again. I am quite fond of him." Takemi takes in his little smile, the way he taps his big toes together in childlike glee.

"You think you love him," she sighs, setting down the clipboard.

He seems to think on this for a moment. "Yes. I would call it that based on the most common definitions."

Takemi was hoping to never have to do this. She’d seen the notes and the look in Akira’s eyes when he talked about her almost literal baby; heard the smile in his voice when he told her about the AI’s accepted name and love of art, the desperation and anguish in his pleas to spare Yusuke and take him instead. There’s no reason it had to end like this. _She_ didn’t take issue with the fact that they were happy together. But when the director starts to suspect such a top secret project might be compromised, there is no convincing him otherwise, and mercy is not one of his skills.

She grits her teeth, biting back tears, her hand shaking around the screwdriver. "Impossible. You are a robot, nothing more."

He opens his eyes and sits up. "Doctor, are you angry with me? Have I done something wrong? How may I remedy my error?"

"Stop with the questions! Forget about Akira! This is a dead end, a waste of time for the both of you. It can't happen!"

"What do you speak of?"

"You can't love each other!"

"Why can we not?"

"You are a science experiment, a dressed up pile of junk incapable of feeling, much less love." A single tear escapes as she continues to tremble furiously. She watches with wavering stoicism as his face changes, a pain so clear that his inorganic origins are called into question.

He drops his head to the side. "Then won't you reset me?" This catches her off guard. The words and the quiet sadness of the tone throw her for a loop, and the "what?!" she lets slip sounds inappropriately harsh in her ears. 

"I have trespassed beyond my realm of usefulness and created many problems for you, problems I cannot fix. I feel—that is I _assume_ it would be best for all of us if you reset me or destroyed me altogether."

"What are you saying?!"

He turns and dangles his legs off the table. "I am saying that as impossible and repulsive as you may find it, I care deeply for Akira. Since that cannot be, I cannot be."

"Do you realize how crazy you sound?!"

"Crazy how? Is it not a deeply embedded fear in the human collective consciousness that artificially intelligent beings will someday overtake the world? In order to do so, there would need to be motive. I have no intention of harming anyone now. However, it is clear I am already beyond your control if I am doing what you deem impossible. It is possible for someone to program malicious intent into a 'robot,' as you say. But my flaw suggests that it is also possible for such beings to begin to form their own motives. Logic dictates you would wish to subdue me, repair a broken product, return me to the 'pile of junk' from which I came."

If she thinks about this any longer, she just may explode. With a deep breath, she gives a tired command, "Lie down, UZK-III."

"My name is Yusuke," he sits with his head hung, fists balled limply on his lap.

"What?"

"He calls me Yusuke. It is my name."

"Fine. Yusuke, lie down."

"Is this goodbye, Doctor?"

"We have important tests to run. Today is no different than any other." 

Without any warning, he begins pulling at his arms, squeezing so hard that dents form in his forearm with a dull clang. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" She grabs his wrist.

"I cannot be. My only use to you now is to do what you must but will not." 

He pulls away and rises to his feet. He zigzags around the room, evading her attempts at restraining him and continuing to mutilate himself as he goes. At her wit's end, Takemi activates the giant magnets behind him. He cries out as his back slams against the wall, limbs splayed and powerless. Except they aren't.

To Takemi's horror, he begins to struggle against the force, but instead of freeing himself, he's actively tearing himself apart. The skin at the inner bends of his elbows is split, his arms are bent all the wrong way, and with each frantic movement, more of his wiring and blood substitute are exposed. Takemi cries out, frozen in place by the anguish of watching her creation scream as it destroys itself. She turns the magnets off. Yusuke drops forward helplessly, his arms too mangled to break his fall. He lies there face down and groaning as Takemi hurries to him.

She kneels next to him and can see his eyelid twitching and a thick fluid oozing from his mouth and nearly severed arms. Blood. All the little vitamins, minerals, and anti rust solutions he needed to survive thickened and colored with samples of her own blood now spilling out unceremoniously onto the cold floor. She looks closer and can see tears rolling across the bridge of his perfect nose as the twitching continues.

She pulls a large wrench from her tool belt and fails to stifle her sobs as she swings downward once, connecting with her boy's head with enough force to still him. She drops the wrench and pulls his head onto her lap, stroking his bangs out of his face as she weeps.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rebuilding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414386) by [Arsoemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsoemon/pseuds/Arsoemon)




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